


plum wine, plum wound

by GayFrankensteinsMonster



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, F/M, POV Second Person, Resurrection, Stream of Consciousness, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:06:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9262667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayFrankensteinsMonster/pseuds/GayFrankensteinsMonster
Summary: You die. You come back. You wish it was easier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's eleven pm on a sunday and if i have to cry about her you do too.

You need to wake up.

You need to wake up.

Wake up.

“Wake up.”

Your eyes snap open. You’re cold. You inhale, it feels wrong, you choke and gag and bolt up, hands clutching your chest as your vision swims. You whip your head around, trying to focus as the voice you heard ripples and repeats. It pulses and flows and washes over you like a wave, your vision whites out and you blink, disoriented, confused, you see a shape, a halfling? You try to focus, you aren’t used to this, it’s magic and you don’t do magic you’re a fighter you’re a human you’re Magnus goddamn Burnsides and this isn’t what you deal with, and you-

“Wake up, dummy.”

It’s her.

It’s her and it’s her voice and you choke again but not because you don’t need to breathe but because she’s here and you can hear her and she’s here and you-

You are dead. You died. Dead as a doornail in a door in a doorframe. You feel yourself shudder and you move your hands from your face and open your eyes. She’s here. She’s in front of you and she’s standing and you’re sitting and you’re looking her in the eyes and you hiccup. Your hands shake and you reach out to her and it’s not like a dream. This isn’t a dream. You died? You died.

You died but you reach out and touch her cheeks and her eyes crinkle at the edges like they always have- did- She’s soft, her cheeks are soft. You died. You died in Wonderland, something had happened and you’d blacked out, you remembered blacking out. This wasn’t what the afterlife was supposed to be like, was it? You remembered it being grey, from that mirror back in the lab, grey and like a floating, swirling river, but it’s candy-colored and brilliant. She’s brilliant. Her eyes are still bright, bright gold, she’s wearing lipstick, purple lipstick, her favorite it tasted like plums and you drag your thumb across her lips and smear it upwards like a bruise. And she steals your thunder, she rushes in, she grabs you and yanks you forward. Her lips are on yours and you sob with a breath you don’t take, don’t need, you’re dead but she’s here and she’s kissing you again, one of your arms is around both her thighs and you’re curled around her protectively.

You hold her with a hand in her hair and she keeps gasping, pulling your hair as hard in return, her back is against your knees and you’ve fit her legs under your arm. She wrenches herself away, purple smeared on dark skin and you feel like you’ve been punched in the chest. You pull her closer, her legs tucked around your arm as you curl inward and bury your face against her shoulder. Her hands, small hands, soft hands, you know the scars like you know your own, they’re pulling through the hair at the back of your neck, she’s comforting you, trying. And she speaks.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

It doesn’t sink in yet, you’re still holding her and trying to process this, realizing that you’re dead and you’re here and she’s here. But.

“Maggie. You can’t be here.”

“But. Jules, I. It’s been so long, I can’t do- I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave you again. I can’t leave you.”

“I know. I know.” She’s quiet, she’s so quiet for so many seconds, and she’s petting your hair still, her hands are shaking. You press your face against her shoulder, the lace at her collar digging into your cheek. You can feel this. She’s here, god, she’s here and it’s familiar but not familiar at the same time, you can feel her move in your arms again. You can’t leave her like this. You can’t leave her again. You left her and she died and she’s still dead but you are too and you don’t have to leave her again. You can’t. Your voice is soft, and you can feel yourself shuddering again.

“How long until I get to see you again, Jules. I can’t keep doing this. I want-”

“I know. You just- You keep,” And she stops herself, moves back, cups your cheeks and looks you dead in the face. Her eyes are wet, tears beading in her eyelashes and she’s smiling, sadly. “You keep doing the things you do, Maggie. I know what you get up to.”

You make a noise in the back of your throat that’s somewhat a laugh, but mostly a cry. You brushed your hand through her hair, thumbing over the shell of her ear, touching the tiny diamond stud in her earlobe.

“Sorry, Jules, I don’t. I just missed you, and you know,”

“I know. Magnus, I know you, and I know that you’re a big dumbass. And I love you. You need to go back, Maggie.” And she kisses you again, and it hurts you, it hurts that you need to go back but you know where she’s coming from. You don’t want to go back. You just want to stay here, you want to hold her and stay here, sitting in this plane and absorbed in her. It shouldn’t happen. This shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have to leave, she couldn’t make you leave. “It’s only a matter of time.”

You had to leave.

You were crying openly, pressing your lips against the exposed skin on her chest, up her neck across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose and her closed eyelids. Her lipstick had transferred onto you at some point, purple streaks smeared on the skin at her neckline. She holds your face and nods, hugging you tightly. She’s crying, you feel her hiccuping. And your vision is fuzzy, and you close your eyes,

“I love you, Jules.”

“I love you too.”

You feel that same disorientation, like you’re being shredded apart and you feel her drift away, you feel searing shooting sharp pain. You hear disorganized shouting, Taako’s and Merle’s voices and hands are on your shoulders and your stomach and you feel your heart. Beating. You’re warm and you’re breathing and you’re searing, burning hot. You don’t want to open your eyes. But you know where you are, now. You wake up.

You’re back in Wonderland. Back on the physical plane.

You’re curled up around yourself, arms empty and stomach bleeding onto the floor. But you’re not dead. You’re not dead. You are not dead.

You wish you were.

You sob and retch and you’re gasping out plumes of that black smoke, thick and roiling clouds that you don’t want to look at. Your eyes are open and you see Merle, hands pressed against your wounds and you see Taako sitting against a wall with a splint on his leg. You retch again, more black clouds billowing from your mouth.

You taste plum on your lips, and you wish you were anywhere but here.


End file.
